


No Love Without Jealousy

by coininthewishingwell (somnolent_silence)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barry Allen & Iris West Friendship, Bets & Wagers, Blackmail, Cisco & Ronnie Are Best Friends, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fake Relationships To Make People Jealous, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealous Len, Jealousy, Light Angst, Lisa Snart Is Scary, Lisa Thinks They're All Idiots, M/M, Mick Is Snart-Romantic/Snart-Sexual And He Only Minorly Cares Which One He's Dating, Minor Barry Allen/Patty Spivot, Minor Ronnie Raymond/Caitlin Snow, Mutual Pining, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Romance, Ronnie Lives, The Rogues (DCU) As Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnolent_silence/pseuds/coininthewishingwell
Summary: Barry slowly stepped around the desk chair as he entered their Lab. “Uh, what did I miss?”
Caitlin gave a slightly strained smile from where she was not so subtly trying to put some distance between Vibe and herself. “Not much, Cisco just found out that Heat Wave and Golden Glider are dating. And he’s reasonably… Upset.”
Barry raised an eyebrow to where Cisco was pacing and pulling his hair. “Still in denial, huh? Because upset sounds like the understatement of the century.”---In the middle of their foul-mouthed Rogues, Len and Mick are so deep in denial that everyone gets drunk to forget about it. It doesn't work. Lisa intervenes.





	1. And This Is Only The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful anonymous beta and co-author. You know who you are, even if you don't like the publicity.

“Mick, we're dating.”

Said man blinked once, twice. But Lisa Snart was still standing in front of him, hands on her hips and eyebrow raised. Cool, calm, she reminded him of her brother in many ways. Calculated, smart, beautiful, deadly. Finally finding his tongue, he croaked out a question.

“Wh… Why?”

She shrugged, shoving him over on their well past broken-in couch before sitting down beside him. “Well, I need to make Cisco realize that he likes me, so....”

“And you couldn’t have Wizard fill that role? Or even a random guy off the street?” Mick looked away, eyes gluing themselves to the large flat screen TV they’d stolen for Mick’s birthday a few years back.

Lisa rolled her eyes, kicking him in the shin until he actually turned his gaze back to her.

“Well yeah, I did run through all of the possibilities.” The _obviously_ was highly implied. “And I figured that this was the best way. Get Cisco to realize he likes me, and get Lenny to get his head out of his ass long enough to admit his feelings. Well, at least to himself.”

“Feelings?” Mick's voice had reached a level of gravel that was universally known to the Rogues as his ‘what the hell are you _on’_ tone.

“You _do_ realize he’s in love with you, right? He’s been pining for years!” Her raised eyebrow went higher. As Mick continued to look at her blankly, she rubbed her forehead. “Oh dear.” Her voice was nearly inaudible.

Mick just continued to stare at her. “You alright Lisa? You haven't seen anyone hit you with anything have you? A pink light maybe… or whatever Raider uses to create confusion?”

Lisa was just giving him a look that was a cross between fond, exasperated, and unbelieving. “You really didn't know?”

“Know what?”

“That Len’s in love with you.”

“You are really not helping with your not being whammied with something. Do I need to take you to S.T.A.R. Labs? Len would kill me if something happened to you.” Under his breath, he muttered, “...might need them to look for brain damage. Mardon might have electrotherapy-ified her or something. Or maybe he just straight up froze her brain?”

Lisa just shook her head in disbelief.

“Okay.” She drew a fortifying breath. “Okay. You don't know Lenny has a crush on you. I can work with that.

“Now, perhaps I wasn't clear enough. So let me say it this way. You and I are dating, or I see how much people would pay for a golden statue of testicles.” The threat was clear in her voice as her fingers inched towards the golden gun at her hip.

Mick paled, and nodded. “Okay. Uh, dating. Got it.”

Lisa put on her best (read: fake) smile. “Good. I expect only the highest degree of servitu-- pampering? Pampering. Cuz we’re dating now. And I get that as payme--earnings. Earnings.”

Mick narrowed his eyes slightly, but slowly nodded again.

Satisfied, she got up to go before freezing and turning back. “And Mickey?”  She only used that name when she was planning something.

“Don’t tell Lenny about any of this jealousy plan. Or those golden testicles may find their sneaky way onto the black market.”

With the final word, she sashayed out of the room.

_--_--_

The next day, she cornered him in front of the whole group.

“We need to talk.” Lisa told him in a matter-of-fact tone, resolutely ignoring Piper’s raised eyebrow, Wizard and Boo's open staring, and both Trickster's creepy smiles.

“About what?” Mick asked, ever so smartly.

His -partner? Fake girlfriend? Boss?- rolled her eyes. “Our… _arrangement_. That’s what. Now come on.”

He let her drag him away.

Lisa only spoke again when they'd reached her room and she'd locked the door. After the telltale click of the bolt sliding into place, she turned to her brother's partner with a smirk.

“What're we doing?” Mick asked as she gently pushed him down onto the bed.

“Practice,” She gave him a dazzling grin. “On how to swap spit properly.”

“Lise,” He rumbled. “I know how to kiss.”

She scoffed. “I  really doubt that you can do more than smash people with your face.”

“Fine, be that way. How about we have a deal? I do it better than you, you're paying if we go out to eat. If you do it better than me, Lenny pays for it.” Mick proposed.

“What? That's no fair. You've gotta pay if you lose!”

“I'm not spending my hard earned cash on dinner at some fancy-schmancy high-class restaurant that you'll no doubt drag me to against my will.”

“Mickey dear, you got most of that money by torching people on my brother’s orders.” She firmly avoided the fact that he was spot on in his prediction.

“Which means that Len would help me pay for it after all. Not that I'll be paying, that is.”

“Oh you are _on_.”

  


Mark found them a few hours later, hair and clothes mussed, Lisa’s strawberry lipstick smeared halfway across both of their faces, and passionately arguing about who would pay for dinner.

_--_--_

When the sun had finally set, and the only thing that lit up the safehouse was Mick’s surprisingly large stash of candles; the Rogues would sit in a circle and tell stories when they had time.

Today, Glider and Heat Wave were who knows where; and Cold was in his room, poring over the plan for their next heist. So it was everyone minus them that sat there; in their circle of mismatched couches and chairs that held various states of repair and disrepair.

Mark was the first to start. He grabbed a candle from the center table, and for dramatic effect held it under his chin, casting a dark spiderweb of shadow over his features.

Hartley rolled his eyes. “Oh, just get on with it, Mardon. We don't need the theatrics.” The Piper sent Axel a glare when he burst out laughing.

Mark set the candle down anyhow.

“Well, guess who I walked in on today?” The Wizard grinned, drawing out the silence.

“Ooh, _suspenseful_.” Trickster the first leaned forward in his seat, eyes shining and smile slightly worrying.

“Who, then?” Shawna looked mildly interested.

“So you see I was looking for Lisa, y’know, to deliver a message from Snart? So I tried her door, and it was locked. I heard raised voices, so I just thought she was just yelling at one of her shows again, right?” Everyone nodded. They'd run in on her a couple of … memorable times and almost got their ears burst at the vehemence. “So I picked the lock on the door, and when I opened it, she wasn't watching TV at all.

“She was sitting on her bed, hair  all messed up and her makeup smeared-- and Heat Wave was sitting next to her, with his face covered in her lipstick, I think they were arguing about who would buy dinner. I didn't know Rory even likes girls, what with the looks he gives Snart.”

“Apparently he does.” Raider says impassively.

“Oh, I know! Let's spread the word! It'll be hilarious!” Axel beamed.

“I have no part in this.” Hartley holds his hands up as everyone started getting up to follow Trickster the second out.

“Oh come on--how bad can it be?” Boo asked, offering a hand.

With a spot of hesitation, Piper took it.


	2. Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How can she like him?” Cisco whirled around, waving his hands in the air. “He’s a violently irresponsible, rude, utterly tactless guy that she could do without! And he’s a criminal!”
> 
> Caitlin and Barry looked at each other. “Cisco,” Caitlin tried gently. “She’s a criminal.”
> 
>  
> 
> (With a special guest appearance from 'Bank Robbing Is The New Stress Relief'.)

_‘How bad can it be?’_

 

As it turns out, it can be bad. Really bad.

 

Like, _Captain fucking Cold_ _is going to murder us now_ , bad.

 

Yeah, Hartley was so gonna burst Axel’s eardrums after this--assuming there _was_ an ‘after this’ what with the glare Snart was giving them.

 

He finally knew the meaning of ‘looks that can kill’, and really, really wished he didn't.

 

The leader of the Rogues thumbed the trigger of his gun as he paced in front of them, deliberately slow.

 

“So,” Snart began, eyes freezing each of them in turn. “You decide, under Walker’s suggestion, to take over a news station and spread random rumors about a secret supervillain dating site, my partner’s sexuality, and that you think he is dating _my sister_?”

 

“For the record,” Hartley grimaced, sparing a look at his guilty looking friends, “This was _not_ my idea.”

 

Mark butt in with a partial smile. “As I recall you were all for that dating app, kept saying you could make it.”

 

“I--That has nothing to do with this.”

 

Snart started to speak, suddenly. Quietly. “Is it true?” His voice broke and he had to start again. “Is it true that they’re…”

 

They’d never heard so much poorly-concealed venom in words so soft. Whether it was for Lisa or Mick they weren’t certain.

 

“Yeah,” Mark confirmed as Cold let out a sound somewhere in between a sigh and a growl. “Ran into them arguing about dinner yesterday. Looked like they’d been making out. … Uh, you okay?”

 

Cold answered him by narrowly missing Axel’s ear as he froze the wall behind them. “Absolutely _perfect_.” He growled before storming off.

 

“He doesn’t _look_ ‘absolutely perfect’.” Shawna comments mildly, as if they hadn’t just been yelled at half to deafness by someone who was likely one of the scariest men they’d ever meet.

 

“No shit.” Mark helped Hartley up from where he was most certainly _not_ cowering.

 

Not cowering. Obviously. That would imply that he was absolutely and utterly terrified of his Boss. Which he wasn’t, definitely.

 

_--_--_

 

Word of Rogues (supervillains, really) dating (or fake dating, in their case) spread like wildfire, as they learned very quickly when their faces were plastered all over the internet.

 

It wasn't too horrible, but the fact that _everyone_ was talking about it, and the fact that neither of them had Secret Identities _™_ , led to some awkward stares. And also a couple of trying-to-be-discreet-but-failing-miserably photos.

 

Lisa would be more annoyed if the plan wasn't working.

 

Lenny at first didn't believe that they were dating, but when he ran into them on one of their “dates,” he had to face reality.

 

And if he became subdued, and withdrawn whenever Mick, or Lisa entered a room, who noticed?

 

Lisa. Lisa noticed.

 

To be fair, they _had_ grown up together.

If Mick noticed, he didn't say anything.

 

But if Len’s reaction was fun, Cisco's was amazing.

 

_--_--_

 

“What?!” Cisco Ramon slammed his hands on the desk, leaping to his feet while sending his chair spiraling back through the doorway and into the hall.

 

Barry slowly stepped around the desk chair as he entered their Lab. “Uh, what did I miss?”

 

Caitlin gave a slightly strained smile from where she was not so subtly trying to put some distance between Vibe and herself. “Not much, Cisco just found out that Heat Wave and _Golden Glider_ are dating. And he’s reasonably… Upset.”

 

Barry raised an eyebrow to where Cisco was pacing and pulling his hair. “Still in denial, huh? Because upset sounds like the understatement of the century.”

 

“Yep.” Caitlin sighed.

 

“How can she like _him_?” Cisco whirled around, waving his hands in the air. “He’s a violently irresponsible, rude, utterly tactless guy that she could do without! And he’s a criminal!”

 

Caitlin and Barry looked at each other. “Cisco,” Caitlin tried gently. “ _She’s_ a criminal.”

 

Having nothing to say to that, he stalked off to the pipeline to sulk.

 

Caitlin sighed after him. “Well, we may as well get to work.”

 

As soon as Barry had retrieved Cisco’s chair from the hallway, and she’d sat down at the monitor it started beeping, signalling--

 

“Robbery on 45th and Queen. _Seventh_ in a string this week. Honestly Barry--” she said into the comms, as he was already into his suit and halfway there, “--I think it’s Captain Cold. But it’s weird, because he didn't bring any of the Rogues. Not even Heat Wave.”

 

“Got it. I'll keep that in mind.” He screeched to a halt in front of a bank. A bank that Leonard Snart was currently exiting with a very suspicious looking black duffle bag.

 

Len gave a distracted and unconvincing smirk when he saw Barry. “I find that bank robbing helps relieve stress.” He responded to the Scarlet Speedster’s glance at the the duffle bag with questioning eyes.

 

“That doesn't make it legal.” The Flash needlessly pointed out.

 

Len just frowned.

 

“What's wrong, Snart? You're acting  a bit… Cold today.” Caitlin's snickering as well as Barry’s smile quickly died as Central City’s own ATM robber simply glared at him.

 

Popping up behind him, Barry frowned at his tense shoulders. “Seriously though. Are you okay?”

 

“The last thing I need is a _hero_ like you to be worried about _me_. But if you must know,” he gritted his teeth. “I'm _just peachy_.”

 

Barry's brow furrowed. “You sure? You don't look peachy.” The Superhero poked Snart’s tense shoulders, ignoring the growl the action provoked. “This isn't about Heat Wave and Golder Glider dating, is it? Cause you’re not the only one pissed about that. Cisco’s still in denial.” Caitlin started laughing, in his ear. “Very loud denial.”

 

Cisco’s voice came in over the comms. “Denial about _what_ , Barry?”

 

He froze as Caitlin's laughter abruptly stopped. “Shit. Of all times for him to get his head out of his mopey ass.”

 

“Well excuse you. I was _not_ moping.” Cisco did his best to sound convincing, loud enough at this point that Cold could hear him.

 

“And frankly, it’s none of your business. Mick’s my partner, and Lisa is my sister. You have nothing to do with this. So get lost, Flash.” Len snapped.

 

“Be that as it may,” Barry straightened. “You’re still robbing a bank, and I’m still a superhero. So I’m going to have to bring you in.”

 

“Not in a million years, Red.” He raised the Cold Gun with a snarl. “Not in a million years.”

 

\---

 

“Name?” Asked the bored voice of the man who was on fingerprint duty.

 

“Leonard Snart.”

 

“Date of birth?”

 

Len had done this so many times now that he was answering on autopilot, staring at the slowly moving clock and trying to avoid the bruising on his chin and chest from where the Flash had slammed him to the ground.

 

He glared at anyone who dared take a second glance, shoulders hunched and blue-grey eyes steely.

 

“Y’know I’m not stayin’ here long right? ‘Cause I’d hate to ruin any fantasies goin’ through your heads.”

 

Joe sighs wearily into his hands from where he stood at the door. “Yeah Snart. We know.”

 

Captain Singh, while saying nothing, followed Cold’s glare toward the TV. It was a news report about how--

“--Again, today the Flash has saved the good people of Central City from the infamous Captain Cold, putting him behind bars for what is hopefully, the last time. Take it away Izabel.”

 

He sneered at her obvious puppy-crush on the Scarlet Speedster as the other reporter filled the screen.

 

“In other news, Cold’s partner; Heat Wave, along with Cold’s sister Golden Glider have been seen together in multiple places around Central City. According to eyewitness reports they seem to be going on _dates_. Could this be the beginning of a terrifying romance, or--”

 

“Turn it off.” Len hissed, poison dripping off of every syllable.

 

Joe sighed, grabbing the remote -- _tooslowtooslowturnitoffshutitupMickisn’thersstopstopstop_ \-- and the screen went dark.

 

For a fraction of a second, Joe had noticed the pain that flashed across Snart’s face. It was there for a mere second, but it was a look of pure jealousy and hatred.

 

The room warmed a few degrees as Len left it, Singh noticed offhandedly. Huh.


	3. Pancakes Are Much Better Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa's woes continue as Lenny gets drunk.
> 
> Honestly, why is she related to this man again?

 

“Mick darling!” Lisa called as she bust down his door.

 

He looked up from his book (--yes, even Mick reads books on occasion. Though that may or may not have to do with the Snart influence--) to glare at her, and survey the damage done to the hinges. “Didn’t your brother teach you that it’s polite to knock?”

 

“My family didn’t have much need for knocking.” She gave him a pointed glare.

 

He ducked his head in silent agreement. “... Anyways, what d'you wanna talk about?”

 

“Mick, you _know_ I'm on eternal prison break duty.”

 

“So we're busting Lenny out.”

 

“A man after my own heart. Now hurry up, we don't have the rest of time.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

Len pretty much broke the door down when he got back to the safehouse, nearly running Axel over in his haste to run away from the urges he got to punch something when he saw Mick ( _his Mick_ ) lock lips with Lisa. In doing so, he didn’t manage to hear the quiet murmur of “I _told_ you so,” that Lisa threw at his partner.

 

Mick just stared after him with a grimace that was half longing, half doubting. But Lenny was too busy trying to not blow up to notice.

 

“You really sure?” He whispered, soft, his eyes saying that he wished it was true. “I mean, that could just be him gettin’ mad that I kissed you. Ya know, he bein’ your brother an all.”

 

Lisa groaned. Inwardly. She didn't want to scare Mick off. But _men sometimes._

 

_--_--_--_

 

A few days later, Lisa popped her head into her brother’s room.

As always it was a simple place-- a few bits of furniture scattered about, plans and tools coating it like the first dusting of snow that had fallen last month.

The only place mildly clear was taken by an open vodka bottle. She drew back on instinct, the smell of alcohol drenching the room in a heady mist.

She found him trying to meld to his sheets, eyes unfocused and red.

 

“Lenny,” she murmured, crouching in front of him. “Lenny. What’s goin’ on?”

 

“Lise?” He slightly slurred. He didn't seem too drunk, but the bottle on the bedside table was nearly empty, and Lisa knew that he never seemed as drunk as he really was.

 

“Yeah, it’s me.”

 

“Sit down… Sit down…” He murmured, scooting back a few centimeters before giving up. She complied, running a hand over his head gently.

“What's wrong, brother mine?”

 

He didn’t answer, red eyes fixed on a point just past her elbow. He slowly worried his lip between his teeth.

“Lenny,” Lisa sighed, hand coming to rest on his forehead. “Oh, how much did you drink? Mick,”

 

“Yeah?” Came the grumble from the other room.

 

“Be a dear and get Len some Advil and a washcloth. Cold, please.”

 

“Did’ja have to pun?” Mick muffled voice, displays his annoyance splendidly. He was woefully ignorant of Len's reaction to his voice, as the man flinched and curled in on himself with a small gasp.

Suddenly her brother was almost lucid, murmuring-- _“No, y’ c’nt let him in L’sa, L’sa don’t.” --_ Her eyes rolled, sighing. She might know the problem. Goddamn men and crushes. Fuck.

 

_--_--_--_

 

Mick waited for two minutes, knowing Len’s tendencies of drunkenly bitching, slurring his words all the while. Mick did not want to be around for that, but after the two minutes elapsed, he walked back over to Len’s room.

 

“So,” He began, eyeballing the prone form of Leonard warily. “We good here?” Lisa nodded, accepting the washcloth, water, advil and the sleeping pill Mick had slipped into the package. Based on prior experiences, Len doesn't sleep when he’s drunk. And when he doesn't sleep, he’s even more of an asshole. Especially adding a hangover to the mix.

She pressed the washcloth to his head and made him swallow the pills.

 

Finally, Lisa waved him off, mouthing - _We’ll talk later_. Mick shrugs, and goes back to his phone. Len would be alright.

 

_--_--_--_

 

The next time they saw Leonard was at breakfast two days later, as he made a beeline straight for one of their many coffee pots. (They were supposed to be functioning adults, and Axel was probably a permanent ten year old, so it would make sense to have nearly twenty coffee pots. Right?)

When they saw him, all sound and movement immediately ceased.

Mark stared at him with half a pancake hanging out of his mouth, maple syrup steadily dripping onto the Hanukkah pajamas that Lisa had lent him a while back and he'd ‘accidentally’ forgot to return. (They all knew that Lisa secretly was using them to blackmail him into getting favors anyways, so no one really cared.)

Axel looked up at him guilty as he emptied the entire whipped cream bottle out on top of a stack of pancakes as tall as Len’s forearm.

Shawna froze where she was chopping her bananas. (Which everyone kept telling her were disgusting on pancakes. But, well, here they were.)

Roy looked reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights as he hid behind his tinted glasses and melting chocolate chips.

The only ones that didn't seem that alarmed were Mick and Hartley. The former of which was too furiously flipping pancakes to acknowledge his presence, and the latter sitting stock still in his usual paranoidly-relaxed position next to Mark.

 

Len could understand why Mick wasn't paying attention to him-- really! He could. Because pancakes. They were _much_ better company than the world famous super criminal, the infamous Captain Cold.

 

He thought about bringing it up, a fleeting attempt at holding Mick’s attention before his sister snatched it away forever. But instead the words falling from his lips were -- “You better not ruin those pajamas, Mardon. My sister is the Devil when she's angry.”

The room sighed a collective breath of relief. Finally relaxing as he proceeded to chug the entire pot of coffee and smirk, while Mark scrambled to get the syrup off of his clothes.

  
His heart gave an almost painful squeeze as Mick looked up and laughed, giving him a brilliant smile. “Welcome back to the living, Len.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey guys! I finally made the page breaks consistent! .... That's totally a life accomplishment, right?  
> Right guys? ... Guys?)


	4. Meet Roy, Len's New (Love) Life Counselor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Roy?” Len strode into the Raider’s bright room, flinching at the neon and rainbow decor that assaulted his eyes. “Are you here?”
> 
> “What do you want, boss? You never talk to me.” The color meta gave a dramatic sigh and set down his knitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be sorry.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> I'm really not.

The next few days were _hell_.

 

Even as Lisa and Mick tried to poorly conceal them, Leonard caught every spared glance, every lingering touch, every silent conversion that passed between his sister's sapphire and Mick’s dusty green eyes.

 

He tried to crush each pang of jealousy in their tracks, trying to freeze his feelings and bury them somewhere deep in his chest where he didn't have to feel them-- where he didn't have to intrude on his sister’s happiness.

 

It--really didn’t work.

 

But the worst of it all was that he couldn’t _do anything_. He just had to sit there and watch it happen, and just hope that it passed.

 

It wasn’t passing.

 

In fact the more he watched, the more brazen they became. It’s not as if they actually declared it, it was just something everyone knew was there and not to touch. Much like the Cold Gun strapped to Len’s own hip, or his sister-- until now.

 

Maybe it would help if he could ask someone who knows something about feelings--god knows he wasn’t one of them.

 

So he went to the only person that he knew personally who had any idea about how to handle them.

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Roy?” Len strode into the Raider’s bright room, flinching at the neon and rainbow decor that assaulted his eyes. “Are you here?”

 

“What do you want, boss? You _never_ talk to me.” The color meta gave a dramatic sigh and set down his knitting.

 

“Well I have some issues--”

 

“And I’m not your therapist. If you want to get therapy then hire someone, outside of Central City, whom is certainly not me.” Roy interrupted snidely.

 

“--and by process of elimination, I have deemed you the most sane and likely feeling member of this… whatever it is. Family? Group of criminals? Whatever.”

 

“Why can’t you bother Shawna?”

 

“Because she’s in Keystone on a job with Rosa and Sam, if you’d remember.”

 

“Why not Hartley?”

 

“Because he doesn’t care?”

 

“Touché.”

 

“Then Dr. Bivolo, shall we begin?” Len gave him a fleeting smirk he stretched himself out in a leather armchair haphazardly flung into the middle of the room.

 

Taking one last glance at the scarf he’d been working on, he sighed and settled back. “Yes,” He agreed dryly. “Let’s.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Oh fuck no!” Roy yelps. “No! I am not getting between you and your sister in a fight for your crush! Not worth the risk.”

 

Len raised an eyebrow. “That's really all you got from this conversation?” Roy is vehemently shaking his head, trying to get Len out of his room.

 

“Pretty much yeah. But seriously, I annoy Lisa, I get my testicles turned into a pretty statue. No.” Roy somehow manages to push Len back towards the door. “Get out of my room. Before she hears you.”

 

“Roy, I came in here asking for help.”

 

“I am not your therapist. Nope! Nope nope nope nope, nope Nope. Get out!”

 

Len sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Look, Roy. I do not say this often, but-” he grimaces, as if the word pains him. “-please.” Roy falters, sighing.

 

“Okay, you like him, right? Cool. I guarantee you that Lisa will share. And that if Mick likes you enough to stick with you all of these years, he probably likes you too. Now get out of my room.” He shuts the door in Len’s face.

The blank painted door stares at Len for awhile, before it opened to Roy's face again. “Oh, and when in doubt, make him jealous.” Roy shut the door again, a lock sliding into space.

 

Len stares at the door, dumbfounded. “He makes it sound so easy.” He murmurs.

 

“Maybe because it _is_ easy, asshole!” Roy shouted through the door. “Now go away!”

 

Grumbling, he headed off towards the kitchen. Coffee, then he'll start on a plan.

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Cisco.” A voice sighed from the entrance to the pipeline. “You're crying over a girl?”

 

Said man looked up from where he sat, eyes puffy and red. “Shove off flame brains. You wouldn’t understand. You’re _married_.”

 

Ronnie Raymond snorted, coming to lounge next to him on the ledge. “And that makes me unqualified to give advice? I think it makes me _more_ qualified, personally.”

 

Cisco laughed, hollow and choked with previously shed tears.

 

“So I hear you’re in a bit of a pickle. What seems to be your _dill_ -emma?”

He was met with a distinctly unimpressed silence. “Did you— did you really just make that pun?”

 

A slow smile spread across Ronnie’s features. “You can leave if you can’t _dill_ with it.”

 

“Come on, you already used that one!”

 

No answer but a shake of the head.

 

“I hate you so much.” The words clashed with Cisco’s beam.

 

**_Score_**. The voice in the back of Ronnie’s head cheered. “I _am_ a very cu-cumbersome person.”

 

“Are you giving me _heat_ , Firestorm? Is that what you're doing?”

 

“Just trying to _smoke_ you out of hiding.”

 

“Are you sure you want to? You look a little too _burned out_ from the long day to be looking out for me.”

 

“Nah. I'm still on fire.”

 

“Ronnie, stop torturing the man, why don’t you?” Caitlin said from the doorway, casting a fond gaze over the two of them. Said man looked up with a sheepish grin, hand on Cisco’s shoulder to keep from collapsing into giggles.

 

After a moment to calm down, Ronnie turned back to Vibe. “Gotta go, man. Elsa’s callin’ me. If you need to talk it out, just ask me. Or Barry. Or Snow Queen here. We’ll be happy to listen.”

He stood up, walking over to grasp Caitlin’s hand so that their wedding rings clinked together.

 

“Hey man, uh, thanks.” Cisco replied.

 

With a cheery salute, Ronnie took his exit, whispering sweet nothings in his wife’s ear as they walked back to the main part of the lab.

“Alright,” Cisco sighed. “Get up off your ass, Ramon, and go get your girl.”

 

He grinned.

 

“Yeah. That sounds about right.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Do you have _any_ idea why Mick and the boss are so deep in denial?” Hartley whispered mournfully to Mark over a bottle of a rare 1960’s Cabernet they had stolen from a private collection last month, just for occasions such as these.

 

Y’know, _those_ occasions. With Roy studiously ignoring everyone, Axel passed out over the back of a chair because he was a lightweight, Mick steadily finishing a bottle of whiskey with Lisa upstairs, Len trying to coax information about how to make someone want you out of Shawna, Trickster the First whoever the fuck knows where… And of course, Mark and Hartley, having deep discussions about feelings because they were too much of scaredy-cats to do it sober.

 

Making a face at the sharpness of the drink, his teammate set down the glass. “Nope. Maybe they’re scared. I think that it’s ’cause they haven’t had a good relationship in so long that they don’t think it could happen. Much less with they guy they really love. So Mick tried to fall in love with Lisa instead, ’cause he statistically has a better chance with her than the boss.”

 

“Y’know--” Hartley hiccuped. “You’re the only person I know who goes waxing philosophical while drunk.”

 

“Aww, thanks Hart!”

 

“Don’t call me that, call me the greatest musical genius of the 21st century.”

 

“’Kay, genius.” Mark laughed. “But really. Don’ wanna be a downer or anythin’, but they should just make out already.”

 

“Mm-hmm.” Hartley hummed in agreement, staying barely awake long enough to feel a blanket being draped over him, and then blackness.


	5. Decades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ronnie gains his figurative other half, and loses his literal one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I um. I forgot that Ronnie and Caitlin being married was a plot point. My apologies.
> 
> Also, since I missed last month, we have a double update today! *Throws confetti*

“You’re going where to do what?” Was Len’s first reaction when Lisa told him the news.

 

“Keystone. To dance. The dance teachers in this city are shit. Plus, we need to do a heist there. It’ll be fun, come on, Lenny.”

 

It did sound like fun, and that was probably the reason jealousy was rising its wary head once again in his chest.

 

Not, of course, because a certain someone would be going with her. Not that he didn’t appreciate the gesture his sister was doing for his partner. It was very romantic. Sweet even. Dancing.

Mick probably didn’t know it, but Len was the best dancer out of all of them. He’d practiced it in case he needed it for a heist, and later, for much more … selfish reasons.

Yet it sounded to him like Lisa intended it to be a two-person job.

Len would just be a third wheel, and if there was anything he hated, it was that.

 

Oh, god, was this the cliché ‘I like a straight guy’ trope? Len hoped not because then he’d have to suffer his entire life watching his sister and secret crush make out in a back room of their warehouse.

They seemed to be in a pretty serious relationship.

 

Not that, y’know, Len was anyone to judge, since he’d never been in one—not  _ seriously _ anyways.

 

He sighed. Lisa would be the death of him one of these days.

 

“Don't get arrested.”

 

“You underestimate me, brother mine.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

“You may kiss the bride.”

 

“Stop telling me what to do.” Ronnie went for it like he was a parched man in the Sahara, and Caitlin was the first oasis he'd found that wasn't an illusion.

 

As the ceremony was reaching a close, Barry heard something. 

 

“Um, guys?” he said, craning his neck to get a good look, “I think we have a problem.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

Lisa clutches Mick's arm in horror. Around them, people scream, pointing, and scrambling like ants. And like any ant hill, some stand still, looking at the sky in fear, and acceptance. 

 

“Well.” Mick coughs, shaking himself out of any shock. “Shall we take use of the bar then?” He gestures to the bright and empty, building they’d just left.

 

She nods mutely, allowing him to lead her back into the darkness.

 

Her bleary mind barely registers the clinking of glasses and the rush of a drink being poured before another golden shot was placed on the table before her.

 

A glance to her left showed Mick, lit up in the quiet flame of his drink and staring at her like an Olympic competitor would a silver medal.

 

“What’re you starin at?” Lisa asked, mouth moving too slow for her thoughts.

 

“You.” Mick picked up his drink, not looking at the flickering light for once.

 

“Why’re you looking at me?”

 

Mick made a noise. “Just thinking that I’m not a really lucky guy, and that you’re probably the luckiest I’m ever gonna get. Not counting that this is just an elaborate ruse to get Cisco to like you.”

 

Lisa was silent for a moment, then she spoke, all quiet like. “You really think I’m the luckiest you’re gonna get? No, darling, my brother is the luckiest you’re gonna get. And you’re gonna get him if I have anything to say about it.”

 

“You’re talking as though he’d ever go for me.”

 

“My brother has been pining over you for decades, Mickey.”

 

“I don’t believe you.” Mick growled, downing his shot and going to make himself  new one.

 

“When have I ever been wrong?” Lisa challenged.

 

“Chicago. ‘07. You said the score was going to be 26 million and it was actually 27.” He tossed back the next shot.

 

“So I like even numbers. Sue me.” She smirked.

 

He didn’t take her up on that offer.

 

Instead, he decided to lean across the table to press a soft kiss to her lips.

 

A stunned silence, and then: “Mick, you don’t have to act in private.”

 

“I’m not acting. Just making the most of what I can get.” His voice was gravelly.

 

She nearly banged her head against the table.

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Ronnie! Ronnie, are you okay?” He groaned, eyes fluttering open to see his wife leaning over him. 

 

Caitlin was biting her lip and holding his hand in a way that suggested if it was up to her she'd never let go.

 

“Hey,” he coughed. “I think you're cutting off my circulation, babe.”

 

“Sorry.” She managed to mumble before Barry, who had been hovering on the sidelines, but in.

 

“Uh, Ronnie?”

 

“Yeah, what's up Barry?”

 

“Stein. Well, I don't suppose he made it out with you, did he?”

 

In his moment of relief the fire meta had completely forgotten about his literal other half. The was a pregnant pause as Ronnie frantically searched the back of his mind.

 

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. 

 

“No. Not from… Not from what I can tell.”

 

Barry nodded, looking pretty beat. “Alright. You sleep. We'll handle the rest.”

 

_--_--_--_

 

Len is panicking. Hell only knows what's happening, and Mick is out with Lisa, who knows where. 

 

“Where are they?” He mutters, pacing enough to wear a hole in the carpet. On the T.V., lightning darts up to the black circle, and an explosion follows. Lightning, and a body no longer on fire fall out.

 

Leonard is too preoccupied with worrying over his sister and her boyfriend, and doesn't notice.

 

_--_--_--_

 

In hindsight, they couldn't have  _ known _ about the giant wormhole that would, y’know, open up above Central and attempt to swallow the city whole. At least, that was what Barry was stuck repeating to Cisco a whole two hours after the incident over pizza and beer.

 

“It took this really cool tech I was working on! I was this close.  _ This _ close to making yet another fabulous scientific discovery and it's all gone! And Lisa likes Mick!” Their tech support may or may not be a little drunk.

 

“Wait. You lost me. What does Lisa have anything to do with this?” Barry sat back, eyebrows raised.

 

Cisco splutters, trying to backtrack. “Y’know, I don't think it does.” Caitlin muses, “I think he was just listing his problems.”

 

Barry ignores Cisco's indignant face, and waving hands (“No, no I'm not. Caitlin!”) in favor of turning to face her, leaning in conspiratorially. “That explains so much Caitlin! Who knew you were so smart.” He turns to stare at Cisco, eyes pointed.

 

“Oh, I dunno.” Caitlin taps her chin voice containing many traces of sarcasm. “Maybe my college professors?” 

 

Cisco regains his bearings, still wildly waving his hands about. “Guys, no no no, I don't like Lisa!”

 

“You are constantly flirting with each other. And you seem to be really upset that she's sleeping with Heatwave.”

 

Cisco falters, trying to figure out a response. Nothing comes up, and he settles for a mumbled “shut up.” Caitlin just grins, and gets back to chewing her slice of pizza.

 

Barry grins, and goes back to his box, ignoring the cacophony of Joe dragging a chair out from Ronnie’s new and shiny bed.

After all, tonight’s the night to forget the horrors of the last 24 hours, so what’s wrong with a little fun?


	6. Funerals and Forbidden Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The funeral of Dr. Martin Stein is a melancholy affair, but Cisco can't stop dreaming up fantasies. (Of a girl who's hungover on the other side of town).

“We are here in memory of Martin Stein. Husband, my fellow rabbi, and a loving contributor to the great world of science. We are thankless here, that we have no body to mourn, that we cannot be in the presence of this great man once more…” the rabbi’s voice faded to background noise as Cisco stared at the dark oak wood coffin, silently contemplating what would have happened if Ronnie had been the one to go and not Stein.

 

Caitlin would have been broken. So recently reunited with the man she loves only to have him taken away in the next heartbeat.

 

If this had been him. Him and Lisa, perhaps. Would he have been crying as hard as the blonde middle-aged woman in the front row? Would he be sobbing so harsh that his shoulders shook and everybody could hear it, no matter where in this cemetery they stood?

 

Cisco thought no. They hardly knew each other-- they'd kissed once on the side of a motorcycle, for crying out loud-- they didn't have the history or the experience to say that they loved each other like that.

 

But his little green imagination couldn't help but picture a few helpful scenarios.

 

A few really stuck out to him-- Cold dragging Heat Wave away from his sister. Lisa getting mad and dumping Mick, maybe coming over to say that she really wanted to date him.

 

Mick lying on the ground with a black eye and a nasty bump, in the foreground Lisa was getting real close. Just a few more seconds and then her lips would brush tantalizingly against his and--

 

“Cisco!” Caitlins harsh whisper shakes him out of his dazed state, and into the reality of the hard foldable metal chairs, Mrs. Stein being gently comforted in the front row, and palpable sorrow filling the room like a haze.

 

Caitlin's glares and Ronnie's red eyes were the realm of guilt and groveling. Well, soon to be groveling. 

 

“What?” He mouths, any irritation dissipating with one glance at Ronnie. His eyes flickered across the way his friend was holding himself, as if every step hurt.

 

“Are you even listening? At least try to show respect. Stein was our friend!” The whisper was barely audible. Despite that, Cisco looks down, uncomfortable.

 

“Sorry.” For thinking about Lisa, he doesn't say. 

 

Caitlin hears it, as her glare softens a tad. Voice still cold as ice, she whispers her next sentence. “Concentrate, understand, and at least try to be respectful.” 

 

Cisco nods, looking down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. A wayward thought flies through his head.  _ What if Lisa was caught in the wormhole? Or in the destruction later? Oh shit. Shit shit  _ shit _. _

 

_--_--_--_

 

“Tell me,” Len stalks across the floor, all predatory intent. “Why did I get a call from a bar, of all places, about picking you up? And why did you drink 1000 dollars out of my pocket?”

 

Mick tries not to notice how hot Len is when he gets angry. The anvil in his head helps. Beside him on the fold out couch, Lisa isn't faring any better. She’s got her head in her hands, curled up into the fetal position beside him.

 

“They were by the wormhole.” Shawna takes pity on then, looking at her nails in calculated boredom. “I got out cause I’m me,” she teleports to the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a glass, “But they were probably on a date. So they either didn't notice the wormhole, or decided it was a better idea to ignore it in hopes of enjoying their last hours.” 

 

Len draws back, flinching slightly at the talk of a cursed  _ ‘date’ _ between the two.

 

He recovers, quickly enough so that the hangover train of two couldn't notice. “You owe me 1000 dollars Lisa, Mick. With interest.” He turns sharply and walks to the door, slamming it on the way out.

 

There is silence for a little while before Lisa blearily starts talking. “Hey. Hey Mick.” It's hardly audible, but given the silence, it echos. “I think it's working.”

 

Shawna raises an eyebrow, before exiting the room. As if waiting for a cue, the other Rogues leave-- knocking, stumbling, shoving, and cursing each other; all in an attempt to get out of the tension filled room.

 

Mick blinks in confusion, before opting to shut his eyes. The world could bother him some other day.

 

A small smile finds its way to his lips as he feels beside him Lisa doing the same.

 

_--_--_--_

 

Cisco looks up from where he's marching, feet treading the earth rapidly. Across the street, someone else is doing the same.

“Holy… Snart?” The man keeps walking, forcing Cisco to cross the street at a jog. “Snart!” Captain Cold only groans, increasing his speed. 

 

“Oi! I'm going to keep running after you, Snart!” Cisco shouts.

 

This rather impeccable logic sinks into Snart’s head about half a block later, when he slows to a stop. The crisp wind blows away all but the tail end of his words. “-mon?"

 

Cisco stops to pant, hastily gathering his frazzled mind into coherency. “I was wondering, if Lisa was alright?” The look of torment on Snart's face upon the name inspired fear of the worst. “I mean.. She  _ is _ okay right?” He starts wringing his hands together, fidgeting as cold sweat starts to break out along his back.

 

Snart just sneers. “Last  _ I _ saw her, she was hungover as hell. Date with Mick or something. Now let me be, Ramon.” He stalks off, radiating such anger and sorrow that a young woman talking on her phone immediately moves out of his way, eyes wide.

 

Cisco watches this, trying to get over the anguish and frustration from hearing the forbidden words. 

“Date,” and “Mick.”

 

_ Could he have feelings for Mick? Or is he just being the protective older brother? _

 

He continues his musing throughout the ramble back to STAR Labs, stopped only by a rusted gate to the face.

The same thing happened again inside, except this time with Caitlin.

 

“Woah! Are you okay?” She asked as he just barely caught himself from falling.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Cisco muttered distractedly. “’M good.”

 

“You sure? You seem sort of out of it.”

 

“I’m fine,” and when she gave him  _ that  _ face, “Really, Cait. I’m  _ fine _ . Just thinking.”

 

“Why don’t you take a day off?”

 

He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again. “That-- that sounds fine. Thanks.”

 

Cisco couldn’t remember how many telephone poles he bumped into on the way home.


End file.
